


Eleven forty-two

by foggysundays



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Sam, Bunker Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, POV Outsider, Top Dean, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-28 23:45:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11428734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foggysundays/pseuds/foggysundays
Summary: Ketch is listening in on Sam´s and Dean´s bunker conversations thanks to that infamous bug and accidentely gets way more information than he bargained for.





	Eleven forty-two

**Author's Note:**

> I accidently stumbled across some great fics dealing with exactly this scenario yesterday and well, those were hot and I couldn´t resist to write my own story, adding a little twist because I didn´t want to give Ketch all the fun without also suffering through some frustration :D
> 
> Thanks to everyone doing this before I did, all credit for the plot idea goes to you and sorry for stealing it (well, I´m a tiny bit sorry at least!)  
> Enjoy!

Eleven forty-two. Nearly midnight. Arthur Ketch allowed himself a low groan and closed the ancient book in front of him with a loud bang. Bloody hell, he had always hated the research part of the job, detested the way it forced him into immobility and confined him to dusty rooms for hours upon hours. He knew this was a necessary part of the hunt, knew that he couldn’t simply rely on the nerds to give him all the important details. Didn’t mean he had to like it.

To make matters worse, he still had no bloody clue how to deal with the damn Winchesters. Those two were a royal pain in his ass, they were reckless, unreliable and terribly unpredictable. The only constant was their freakish loyalty to one another and to that angel of theirs. If it weren’t for them being some of the best goddamn hunters to ever cross his path – not that he would ever admit that to anyone but himself - he would have eliminated them a long time ago. They might be softhearted and sloppy in so many aspects but their level of knowledge and skill was fascinating. Better try to enlist them to his cause than to lose such important allies so early in the game. His patience was slowly running thin, though…

Another source of frustration for Ketch was the fact that it was impossible for him to read their dynamics completely. There was something else beneath that unusually strong brotherly bond, something deeper and darker but too elusive for him to put his finger on. He loathed secrets he was not privy to.

Well, the freaking bugs they had planted in the war room of the bunker had been all but useless up until now. Though those morons seemed to have no idea that they were being wiretapped, there still was nothing _interesting_ going on at all. No secret meetings with allies, no discussions of ancient lore or confessions of long hidden weaknesses. Nope, all that Ketch had gotten out of this so far was hours upon hours of brotherly banter, the fact that Dean had an unhealthy obsession with both pie and his car and that Sammy was apparently very good at talking his brother into giving him a massage. The Winchesters were boring, utterly and disappointingly boring.

As if on cue the low beep of an alarm alerted Ketch that the two brothers had just entered the war room. He sighed and walked over to his laptop to turn up the volume. He was awake anyway, so why not listen to some more mindless chatter before going to bed. Ketch listened to the low conversation flowing through the laptop speakers, he had been right – the hot topic of the day was a rather heated debate about the benefits of 2in1 conditioner and shampoo products versus buying a bottle of each. Jesus Christ, he needed a drink.

He opened the cabinet next to the entrance door and selected his favorite scotch after a moment’s hesitation. The last few weeks had been terrible enough to warrant that and those two hunters didn’t do much to lift his mood. Ketch poured himself a rather generous amount and idly strolled back to his working table where he once more began to sift through some papers while keeping an ear on the Winchester brothers. Their chatter had quieted down somewhat, now mainly consisting of drawn-out silences and the clicking of beer bottles.

“I still don’t like the fact that we´re seriously working for those fucking Brits now! That Ketch guy creeps me the hell out! He´s like freaking Hannibal, all quiet and intense and stabbing you as soon as you turn your back.”

“Working _with_ them, Dean. With them, not for them. And they do have some interesting ideas, we can learn from each other, gain some more allies. Even if you don’t like them, you have to admit that they are useful sometimes.”

“Still doesn’t mean I have to feel comfortable with this. They remind me too much of Crowley but at least that guy never lied about the fact that he would love to ice us if he ever had the opportunity.”

Sam sighed tiredly. “Just give them a chance, De. Let´s see if we can work it out and if not, we can still do our own thing later.”

Movement now, the rustling of fabric and then Dean´s low voice was much closer to the bug than before.

“You´re exhausted, Sammy. I know you haven’t been sleeping well lately and with this whole shitfest going down… I haven’t been taking care of you like I should have. I know that there wasn’t much time between Mum being here and then Eileen, but now – Let me take care of you, Sam. Let me make you forget.”

Sam didn’t give any verbal answer Ketch could pick up on but then there was more movement and before he had time to ponder on what Dean could have meant by that cryptic statement, a low groan echoed through the office followed by some wet sounds and – _Bloody hell_!

Ketch ended up wheezing and coughing violently around his last mouthful of scotch as his mind finally translated the noises and signaled him that the two brothers were kissing. Kissing! And not just some affectionate kiss between siblings, no. This were the sounds of deep, hungry kisses, all teeth and tongue, low moans and frantic movements indicating that there might also be a fair amount of groping and undressing involved.

“ _De_ , please! I need – “

“Shh, Sammy. It´s okay, I got you! Just come on, let´s get this off and…. yeah, that´s it, baby boy!”

The older Winchesters voice had gone even lower than usual, it was rough and full of dark promise, totally at odds with the fact that he was currently addressing his younger brother. Jesus, Ketch nearly couldn’t contain his excitement at the discovery. Incest. Freaking full on incest -  and by the sound of it something that had been established a long time ago. Those Americans were apparently even more depraved than they had previously thought.

The sound of ripping fabric was followed by Dean´s amused laughter and the clinking of belt buckles being opened, wet sounds of lips meeting skin and low moans from Sam filled the room.

“Well, look at that, baby! Look how wet you already are for your big brother! God, Sam, you look so freaking hot, you have no idea!” More kissing now, frantic and hard by the sounds of it and Ketch couldn’t keep the pictures out of his mind, the visions of those huge men pressed tightly together, their erections rubbing over muscular skin, hands digging into scarred flesh.

“Fuck, De! It´s been way too long, missed you so much! _Please_ , I need you, need your mouth, need your cock! Just, _come on_ already! Do something!”

“Bossy, huh? Gets me all tingly when you talk to me like that, Sammy. Who am I to resist when you start to beg so prettily?” Dean´s voice was tinged with sarcasm, but also clear arousal and the next sounds out of the speakers was a loud groan from Sam followed by a long stream of colorful curses in several languages mixed with his brother´s name. The older Winchester didn’t make any sounds the bugs picked up on but the wet sliding of skin on skin and Sam´s reaction was enough for Ketch to know what was probably going on in the bunker. He couldn’t quite suppress a moan of his own because _god damn_ , Dean must look magnificent down on his knees, his mouth stretching obscenely around his brother´s leaking cock – and judging by the totally wrecked sounds Sam was making, the man had a fucking talented mouth. No surprises there, Ketch had enough intel on the brothers to be well aware of the rumors concerning their… prowess in bed. Didn’t mean he had expected them to practice their moves on each other, though.

And Jesus, this was wrong. Utterly and completely, and his rational mind signaled in no uncertain terms that he should feel disgusted. Brother´s should never touch each other like that and while Ketch was certainly no posterchild for moral behavior, there were certain bridges even he refused to cross. Or so he had thought previously… Now, well – according to the tent in his pants the brother issue was apparently not that much of a problem. Not all that astonishing, really – as infuriating as the Winchesters were, he couldn’t deny their physical attractivity. Both were beautiful men, their power and skill even more arousing in the rare instances where they did show the ruthless efficiency they usually tended to bury deep inside themselves. Ketch wouldn’t have minded having either brother in his bed, but both of them together….

“Come on, Sam! Do it, fuck my mouth, you know I can take it!”

Ketch grabbed the scotch bottle from the cabinet again and poured more into his drinking glass, downing the liquid in long gulps. Judging by the noises Sam was totally gone by now, incoherent gibberish flowing from his mouth even as the wet sounds increased in speed and intensity until a loud shout of his brother´s name signaled his climax, forcing Ketch to dig his fingers into the meat of his thigh to stave off his own impending orgasm. Good lord, he had been aware of his voyeuristic tendencies for a long time now but this was just ridiculous.

Dean had apparently pulled off, his voice wrecked and fucked-out as he showered his baby brother with praise and encouragement. “So good for me, Sammy! I´m so proud of you! God, nearly had me shooting my load just listening to you. You´re killing me, man. _Christ_!” Kisses again, slow and tender. “Come on, sit back on the table. That´s it, baby. Gonna open you up now, nice and slow until your all hard and leaking again and _then_ I´m going to fuck you, baby boy. Make you feel my cock for days!” A click signaled a lube bottle being opened and then Sam was whimpering again, moaning as Dean stretched him with his fingers, all the while keeping up a dirty monologue in that hypnotizing voice of his. Ketch had finally decided to leave his moral high ground behind and give in to his pleasure, so he made himself comfortable in his chair and pulled his own cock out. God, he couldn’t remember the last time he had been as aroused as he was now – but all those sounds, the mental picture of Dean shoving his thick fingers into his brother´s quivering hole, Sam laying on the war room desk, his head thrown back and panting… Jesus, it was nearly too much.

By the time Dean deemed his brother ready, Sam was a total mess again, his voice wrecked and pleading in a way that should be impossible for a man of his size and muscle mass but that was unbelievable arousing. Ketch was not far off from pleading himself, his patience was running thin and Dean´s nonchalance was more than infuriating. But finally even the older Winchester was at the end of his rope, wet slicking noises signaling that he was lubing up his cock and then both of them were moaning, low and deep, panting hard, their bodies unmoving for a long moment.

Then, “Come on, De! Fucking move already!” and his brother obliged, his first few strokes slow and careful but then unceremoniously picking up speed and force, the wet slap of skin on skin obscenely loud as he slammed into his brother again and again. Sam was cursing up a storm while Dean was growling at him, moans and whimpers mixing until even Ketch himself wasn’t sure which sounds came from the brothers and which were flowing out of his own mouth.

“ _Shit_ , baby boy, fuck! You´re so freaking tight, gripping me so hard! God, I´m not gonna last, has been way too long!”

“ _Yes_ , De, Come on! Right there… _fuck_! So close, De! Gonna come…”

And then Sam was climaxing again, chocking out his brother´s name while Dean pounded him through it, cursing loudly as muscles clamped down on his cock, his pace finally growing erratic and moments later he was falling over the edge too, filling up his brother and collapsing on top of him. Ketch´s own climax shot through him like lightning, his whole body buzzing in pleasure and leaving him panting in his chair, creamy white painted all over his lap. _Bloody hell_.

The brothers kissed again, slow and soft, deep affection and love in their murmurs, too low to be intelligible through the bug but the emotions in their voices undeniable.

Ketch did his best to pull himself together, still not feeling the disgust he probably should but well – he did get a terrific orgasm out of it and this was so, so much better than anything he had hoped for. Top-quality blackmail material if he ever heard one, even the notion that the famed Winchester brothers were sick enough to fuck their own sibling would go a long way in ensuring that their support from the American hunter community would decrease rapidly. Maybe this was finally their way in, their chance to draw those bloody yanks to their side and under their influence. He allowed himself a smug grin. Oh yes, this wouldn’t go over well with any of those American rednecks out there.

Meanwhile, Sam and Dean seemed to have recovered somewhat, Sam´s sharp intake of breath probably marking the moment when Dean pulled out, sounds of sluggish movements and then the rustling of fabric accompanying their actions.

“Come on, babe, let´s get your ass to bed. You´re gonna need your energy tomorrow morning.” Another soft kiss, bare feet coming closer to the bug. Scratching noises - like finger nails on plastic and then Dean´s voice, loud and dangerously close, his words having Ketch freeze in his chair and curse loudly.

“Well, Ketch, you´ve been enjoying the show?” It was a slow drawl, smug satisfaction radiating from each word. Dean knew exactly what he was doing to him. “We thought you´d like to be in on our little secret. Tell me, you bastard, did you get off on me fucking my baby brother? Did we make you come? I hope you had time to savor the last hour, because this will be the last time we allow you to fucking spy on us! We´re not quite as stupid as you Brits like to think, so sorry you had to waste all your precious time listening to us talk about stupid shit.” Then Dean´s voice got harder, steel creeping in. “If you try something like this one more time, we´re gonna _kick_ your white asses right back to where you came from. We mean it, Ketch, no one fucks with us without being punished and I´ve never been a patient man. Sammy here might still think you got something important to say, but we´re not gonna let you screw us over again and again. So either quit your shit or fucking hell put enough effort into it so that we don´t have to witness your pathetic attempt at playing James Bond!”

The connection cut off with the sound of cracking plastic and electronics, static noise filling his office.

Oh fucking hell, he hated those bloody Winchesters!


End file.
